


Starsplice

by maydei



Series: The Stardust Child [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abstract, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Creation Myth, Fictional Religion & Theology, M/M, Other, Theology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-01 15:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maydei/pseuds/maydei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, there was a sentient supernova and his stardust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starsplice

**Author's Note:**

> I did a thing for class and it mostly ended up being abstract Samifer. And my picky professor actually didn't have anything bad to say about it. 'u' I might do a couple of abstract little tales to throw in, but they're not a huge priority for me, at this point. We'll see how it goes. Hope you like it!

It started long ago. Far before the time of Earth and of men, before the time of money and greed and hunger, there was only space and those creatures that inhabited it. They did not know themselves the way we now know ourselves—their identities were only what they were given by their creator, a being that would come to be the god of lesser things.

Back then, he was just known as _Father_.

One of his children, the brightest one, was wandering among his brothers and sisters (though they did not know gender, only knew the word _sibling_ and differentiated between them by the colors of the supernovas that exploded inside their consciousness)—when he found a speck of dust. It was the first speck, the only speck of its kind, but he was mystified, and so he took it inside the wavelength of his intent and nurtured it. _Stardust,_ he called it fondly, and loved it in secret of his siblings and his father.

He spoke to it. He told it stories, even as his father grew restless and started to create again—he told it of the rock his father shaped and made rich with water and plants, told it of his siblings and their silly squabbles, and with all the love he showed it, the speck of stardust began to grow. Contained inside the vast light of the creature, the stardust also became light; a pinprick of something new and _other_. As the great father perfected his beautiful rock, the stardust began to think, to communicate, to chatter away at its protector and ask questions. It learned, and not long after it began to learn, it began to love. And it loved its creature so dearly, so consumed by adoration, that the creature could not help but respond in kind. The stardust had grown into an ember of love and intelligence, contained within the heart of that which had found it.

The father took notice, but did not respond with understanding and mercy. The father grew jealous of the creation of his own creation, and strove to make something better.

He built mankind, and, in his arrogance, told his starlight-son to love it above all, above his father, above the stardust, and to bow and proclaim his _humans_ superior.

And the creature said that it could not.

Infuriated, the father reached out and tore the stardust away, heedless of its terrified screams, and cast the creature away to the darkest of places, where he would wait for all of time, blind and alone.

But the father saw the pain the little speck had suffered at his hand, and thinking of it as nothing more than a speck, he almost felt sorry. So he gave it to another of his sons and told him to look after it. The son was perplexed, but he had never known disobedience—and neither had he known love. He looked after the thing, but the stardust grew sad and lonely, a tiny glow of light that slowly lost its warmth to the bitterness of neglected cold.

Many years passed, and the father thought often of the speck and what to do with it. Then, struck by his own brilliance, he reclaimed it from his child and placed the stardust inside the heart of an unborn human infant—destined to be stillborn until that little light was placed inside.

And the stardust grew into a child, born screaming into the world of men, always surrounded, but always alone.

The stardust-child grew and grew to wander, searching for a love he could no more explain than he could find. So he fell in love with the width of the sky, with the light of the stars, and found the pieces of his broken heart through the lens of a scope that let him see the fiber of space. He stitched himself together with the colors of supernovas, cauterizing his wounds with the frigid weather that came with being near to the poles of the earth he was bound to. He sang songs in words he could not understand and let his tears freeze on his cheeks as he serenaded the auroras that whipped over the horizons. He breathed in air to burn his lungs, and spoke his secrets to the universe in clouds of smoke, fleeting and intangible.

He fell asleep in valleys of ice and snow and could never explain why he always woke up.

But somewhere beneath the shell of the earth, the starlight-son waited and loved and dreamed of the stardust-child. They would find each other someday, beyond the boundary of life and death.

Until then, they would love the sky—and they would wait.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
